


The new Girl's not new and Claire Tucker's not Heartless

by shquirtle



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Female Craig Tucker, Female Tweek Tweak, Genderbending, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:42:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27292891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shquirtle/pseuds/shquirtle
Summary: When Tweek get's out of rehab, she's taken in by Erica Cartman's family, and faces highschool with the people she left behind. Claire Tucker, the school’s resident heartless leader, discovers that some things never change.
Relationships: Bebe Stevens/Wendy Testaburger, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh
Comments: 21
Kudos: 62





	1. Introductions

“The queen bee”. Every high school had one. The one girl that was untouchable, that had the inner working’s of her school’s social constructs wrapped around her pinky finger. Heathers, Mean Girls, etc. You hear the term and you think of that one slut that’s fucked the entire football team, that rich bitch who makes it her primary goal to make you listen to the sound of her three hundred-dollar heels click, clicking down the hallway, the wicked princess who could end your whole social career with a click of the finger. South Park Highschool was no different than any other cliché, it had it’s jocks, it’s cheerleaders, it’s nerds and it’s goths; and it’s queen bee. Claire Tucker was different, however.

Untouchable? Yes. If anyone dared lay a finger on her they’d be pinned against a locker and beaten to a pulp before they had the chance to say, “Do you have a hall pass?”. A social overlord? You could say. She ignored every one and everything unless it whispered blackmail material to her. So, she was more indifferent to the gossip like “Stacey Marsh and Wendel Testaberger always have the cutest couple costumes for Halloween” yet knew every detail about Wendel Testaberger hooking up with his “best friend” Bobby Stevens behind Stacey’s back. Slut that’s fucked the entire football team? That’s where the cliché comes to a halt. Claire Tucker was the most sour, unkind, uncaring, driest apple on the tree. Yes, she’d been hit on before, yes they all ended up in hospital. It was a wonder, really why everyone wanted to be her friend when there is no one on the planet as bitter as her. Though many viewed her as badass. Turning up to school with a new bruise and scar a day, only to ditch every class to smoke cigarettes in the unused girl’s bathroom with Kenny McCormick, her black chapped nail polish and her snakebite piercings, and her refusal to never, ever smile. It was intriguing, and it was intimidating. 

The people she went around with only boosted her social status, though it seemed a mystery as to how they even became friends. There was Jenny Valmer, the friendliest kid in school in dramatic contrast to Claire, she got along with pretty much everyone, half of them genuinely liking her and her sense of humor, and half being terrified of her. Jenny Valmer, despite her innocent and genuine exterior, was a personal and valued member of the most lethal gang in Denver. The Crips. She had joined them when she was only ten years old, and they always had her back. If anyone made fun of her crutches, which she needed to walk, they would indefinitely show up to school the next day with mysterious scars and bruises and the need to stay as far away as possible from Jenny. Everyone wanted to be on both Jenny and Claire’s good side, so as the most feared girls in school it made at least some sense that they always hung around each other. 

Another member of Tucker’s circle was Token Black, only daughter of the richest family in South Park. She was smart, nice, politically charged, so it could be considered confusing as to why she was friends with the likes of Claire Tucker. Though it seemed that Claire just had a liking for her, keeping her by her side ever since elementary school. Another aspect that could be considered was the fact that Token could easily slip past the law, her family’s economic status boosting her popularity and invisibility to the local cops. 

And then there was Claire’s best friend Claudette Donovan, co-head cheerleader next to Stacey Marsh, and shameless playgirl. She made up for what Claire lacked, she was bubbly, flirtatious and very blatantly emotional. She was the only person apart from Tristen Tucker, Claire’s younger brother, that was allowed to touch Claire without being pushed away or punched in the face. Anywhere Claire went, Claude was there too, arm around the taller girls shoulder and humming away happily to herself. Claudette never led anyone on, she always made it blunt that she used guys for sex. She’d say it was good stress relief, but she wouldn’t be able to ever hold a relationship. Despite that she was a kind girl and loved hugging and cheering people up. An odd best friend for Claire, but they were hardly ever apart each other. 

Another honorable mention would be Kendra, “Kenny” McCormick, Claire’s official smoking buddy that flirted with her constantly and shamelessly. Kenny was the poorest kid in school and had two crackhead parents that were hardly ever around, so she was pretty much always hanging around town doing whatever she wanted. She had hooked up with half the kids in her grade and above, though no one except Claire knew that she was actually head-over-heels for Marjorine Stotch. Though neither of them would call themselves much more than smoking buddies, Kenny and Claire knew each other inside out and told each other exactly what was on their minds. 

So though Claire Tucker was a stone-cold bitch, she still had those people that just seemed to stick around her for whatever reason, though everyone else made sure to stay well away from her. That was exactly how Claire liked it. 

That was until one new girl changed pretty much everything.  
In elementary school, everyone knew exactly who Tweek Tweak was. She was the small and frail twitchy kid that was scared of everything and hid from monsters that weren’t there. Crazy. That’s what they would call her, she was a social outcast only being acknowledged through ridicule and laughter by her fellow students. Her parents owned the only coffee shop in South Park and she’d never be seen not clasping a cup of their coffee tightly and drinking it daily as if her life depended on it. Her childhood was a nightmare, she was followed every where by hallucinations and crippling anxiety, she always had uncontrollable outbursts and was never sure about what was and wasn’t real. Her creepy parents were no help, every time she would burst into tears or pull her hair out they’d just give her more coffee, and that was that. She spent her early childhood feeling safe absolutely nowhere and assumed that was how she would spend the rest of her life.

She did have one person though. Tweek was actually close friends with the one person in school that everybody hated. Erica Cartman. Erica was known for being the cruelest bully in South Park, making fun of everyone and being a bigoted asshole. It was unclear to everyone except them exactly how they had become best friends, but once they did they were inseparable. Erica was the only person that Tweek had some security around and was also the person that asked Tweek the words that turned her life upside down.   
What do your parents put in your coffee?

One moment everyone in elementary school knew Tweek, the spazzy kid who’s parent’s owned the coffee shop, the next minute, the shop was gone, Tweek’s parents were gone and Tweek was gone. Everyone had a lurking suspicion what the Tweak’s were actually giving their child daily, and now that it was confirmed, everyone had nothing better to do but get on with their small town lives.  
That was until she came back.


	2. Those Guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if Tweek's seems out of character, but I made some decisions such as giving her a slight stutter to show how much struggle and change she went through in rehab.
> 
> Thankyou so much for reading!!

Nightmares were a consistent burden for Tweek Cartman. They used to be incomprehensible, the scariest part being the adrenaline rushing through her veins, and her heart hammering against her chest paired with the rapid breathing of her lungs, only to jolt awake in a dark room drenched in sweat, hair sticking to her forehead in a tangled mess. But ever since she had started taking melatonin to help her fall asleep, dreams had become so much clearer. She could see things, hear things; but not in the bad way she used to. These were hallucinations that were normal, that everyone had. But she was certain that not many people had nightmares as bad as she did. The most common one occurred exactly the same, almost every night.   
She would be chained to a chair in a dark room, her biological parents on either side of her. They’d never look her in the eye, never, so in her nightmares they had no eyes. Empty sockets that seemed to see her clearer than she could see herself, and they’d inject coffee into her veins with long needles as she’d struggle to come lose. Taunting her… and then the coffee in needles would turn to white crystals, still pushing into her veins feed, feeding her… she needed it, she needed it…

“Go to Hell!”

And she was back. Back in the room where a small blue nightlight reminded her that she was going to be fine, where she was safe. Looking down, she saw the familiar puddle of sweat that she knew so well. She was wearing a loose nightshirt fit for these situations, it wasn’t too clingy so that it wouldn’t be dripping wet every time she had a nightmare. Looking up, she saw a sleepy-eyed face peering at her from under the covers of the twin-bed next to her’s. Stretching her limbs as far as they could go, Erica let out a dramatic yawn to let Tweek know that she was ready to start her day.  
“Same nightmare?” the brunette asked as she kicked her comforter off of her and shuffled out of bed, flinching slightly when her bare feet touched the cool wooden panels of the floor. Tweek started to nod before realizing Erica already had her backed turned to the blonde, so forced herself to let out a small and croaky,

“Y-yeah…” 

“Well come on, no use tryna get back to sleep now,” Erica mumbled as she slipped on her fluffy raccoon slippers to shuffle out the door. Tweek smiled slightly to herself as she threw off her brown covers and jumped out of bed to follow after the slightly taller girl, being careful not to make too much noise as to not wake Liane. Eventually Tweek and Erica found themselves curled up on the downstairs couch with a packet of Oreos nestled between them. A woolen knitted blanket that had been draped on the side of the sofa was now spread over the two girls, though for comfort more than warmth. The light emitted by the television lit the living room, both girls had their eyes fixated on the screen, though neither was fully paying attention.  
“So… school tomorrow.” Erica spoke up, while she carefully took another Oreo from the packet. Tweek felt a lump forming in her throat, which she fought hard to not swallow and show her nervousness. She nodded in response to her adopted sister’s statement, slowly taking her eyes off the screen to look at the taller girl next to her.

“Do you remember everyone? There’s pretty much no new kids, everyone’s the same.”

“I do- I don’t remember much ‘bout e-elementary school…blocking ‘nd stuff…”

Erica didn’t know but nodded along anyway. She reached over to grab her mother’s iPhone, which had been left on the couch side table, leaving greasy finger prints on the once clean screen, Erica quickly checked the time before placing the phone back where it was.

“It’s almost six, you wanna go out and throw rocks at birds?”

Tweek smiled hesitantly.

“Yeah.”

And so, it was that Erica and Tweek Carman stood at Stark’s Pond at 6:30 on a Sunday morning, throwing stones at near-flying birds to “test their aiming skills”, though they both knew it was just for the fun of it. Tweek had only officially moved in with Erica the Friday before, and was still adjusting to life outside of rehabilitation, but she insisted on going to school the next day, wanting to insert herself back into normal life as quickly as possible. Tweek let out a giggle at the sight of a pigeon being knocked off course by her aim and looked up to see Erica staring intensely at her phone. Tweek’s smile fell as anxiety began to take over her.

“What is it?”

Erica looked up, seemingly forgetting for a moment that Tweek was even there before clearing her throat and tucking her short brown hair behind her ears.  
“Kenny texted me. She said she’s bored and wants to hang out or some shit.”  
Kenny. Tweek remembered Kenny, she was the blond girl that always had her face hidden behind her parka hood, she was one of Erica’s best friends in fourth grade. Other than that, Tweek couldn’t really recall much about her. She did know that Erica had a close friend group of her own, consisting of girls called Stacey, Kylie and Kenny herself. They used to be really popular in fourth grade, though Tweek could recall that not many people actually like them. Erica had offered the day before to bring Tweek along to hang out with those guys, but Tweek wanted to stay home. Now here she was, outside and fully dressed, kind of far away from home, with her best friend that had another friend that wanted to be with her.  
“Why’s she up so ear- so early?”

“She’s Kenny, she’s fucking retarded. “

“Oh.”

Erica paused for a moment, rolling her iPhone around in her hands, a pondering look of concentration on her face. Tweek started to drum her fingers on her waist, a nervous tick that showed itself when she didn’t know what she should do. Erica finally spoke.

“Well, do you wanna? Meet Kenny?”

Tweek looked down at her hands, and then up at Erica with the most courageous expression on her face that she could force herself to present.

“Yeah.”

Kenny would be waiting for them in Stacey’s attic, Erica had said, because it turned out that Kenny had also texted Stacey, so Tweek would be re-meeting two old classmates. Apparently Erica’s friends were already aware that Liane Cartman had adopted a foster kid their age, they just didn’t know that it was Tweek. Tweek shuffled nervously from foot to foot as they waited on the Marsh’s doorstep; not knowing what to do with her hands, she began to feverishly run them through her curly blonde hair, the slight pain easing her nerves. Randy and Sharon Marsh were away somewhere, Erica didn’t specify, so said girl was currently banging her fists on her door to get her friends’ attention. Finally, when Tweek felt as if her hair would soon come out, the door swung open to reveal a tired looking girl with a sorry expression at the doorframe. She had bright blue eyes and slightly tanned skin, with long black hair that was effortlessly tied into a side-ponytail. She was wearing a large yellow hoodie and an old red and blue beanie.

“Hey, Cartman,” Stacie said, before her tired gaze shifted to Tweek, “Is this your, uh, your new sister?”

“Yeah and she’s as tired of Kenny’s bullshit as you and me are. Right, Tweek?”

From the corner of her eye Tweek could tell that Erica was looking at her expectantly, but she continued to keep her gaze firmly fixed to the ground. Despite Erica’s presence, she couldn’t help but feel entirely out of place. Before she or Erica could say something, Stacey interrupted.

“Woah, wait, like Tweek Tweek? Dude I hardly recognized you, you’re a lot less, um, you know, err…,” Stacey looked awkwardly away, seemingly deep in a hole she had dug herself.

“Insane?” Tweek said quietly, allowing herself to crack a small smile. Stacey’s eyes widened, obviously not sure whether or not she was allowed to laugh, but Erica quickly settled that for her by letting out a loud chuckle and linking her arm with Tweek’s to push past Stacey and out of the cold. Stacey then let herself giggle, her shoulders relaxing though she sill felt slightly awkward as she closed the door behind them. As they walked down the basement stairs, Tweek saw that there were three more girls there, two more than she was anticipating. Sensing her anxiety, Erica gave Tweek a small nudge to the arm of reassurance as Stacey followed behind them.

The Marsh’s basement wasn’t as cluttered as Tweek was expecting, it was in fact very home-like, with a television, bookcases with actual read books in them, nice grey carpet and two couches. On one couch a girl with bright red curly hair was curled up in a blanket, reading a comic Tweek didn’t recognize as she tried to read the title. Her green ushanka told Tweek that this was Kylie, though when they were young kids the ushanka was far too big for her. On the other couch were two blond girls, one sitting on the right side of the couch and the other one spread across so that her head was in that girl’s lap. The girl on the right side was intently watching the television, which was playing some Canadian cartoon that seemed to be aimed for children much younger than her. But she was still smiling and chuckling at the jokes all the same. Her was light blonde and wavy, tied with green ribbons into neat pony tails that ran just past her shoulders. She was wearing a teal jacket that she had zipped up all the way to her neck. The girl that was spread out on her lap Tweek recognized as Kenny McCormick, by her orange parka alone. This was the first time Tweek had ever gotten a clear look at Kenny’s face, because her parka was neither zipped nor was her hood up. Her hair was short and a darker blond than the other girl’s, and her skin was tanner too. Her face lit up when she saw Erica.  
“Fatass!” she exclaimed, struggling to rise from her position so that she could see the newcomers properly.

“Hoodlum!” Erica said, mocking the tone that Kenny had put on in a slightly nasty manner.

“Hey Erica,” the blond girl that Tweek didn’t recognize smiled genuinely. Kylie didn’t look up from her comic book, obviously not bothered to acknowledge Erica’s presence. The blondes eyes moved from Erica to Tweek, who had started to cling on to Erica’s sleeve.

“Oh, hey there! Are you Erica’s sister?”

This captured Kylie’s attention, her eyes snapping up in curiosity as she put her comic book down, allowing Tweek to finally read the title. The Human Kite. Stacey moved to sit down next to her as she nervously cleared her throat.

“Uh, guys, you remember-“

“Tweek?” Everyone looked over at Kylie, who’s eyes had lit up in recognition and wonder, “Holy shit, is Tweek from elementary school your new sister, Cartman?”

“Wait, who’s Tweek?” Either Kenny or the other blond asked, Tweek wasn’t sure. She was too busy looking hastily between Erica, floor, Kylie, Erica, floor, Kylie.

“Her parents were those crazy guys that owned the coffee shop, remember, Butters? The police found out that they put , like, shitloads of meth into the coffee and were basically pumping it through Tweek’s veins.” 

That’s who it was. Marjorine Stotch, more commonly referred to as Butters. Tweek didn’t see her much when they were kids, her parents kept her locked up inside the house most of the time.

“You’re such an asshole, Kenny! Tweek’s sensitive about that shit!” Erica almost shouted at Kenny, starting to step in front of Tweek protectively. As an almost desperate change of subject, Stacey spoke up.  
“So, are you starting school again, Tweek? Oh, sit down if you want.”

Stacey gestured to an arm chair that Tweek hadn’t noticed before and was more than happy to make herself at home in. There was a beanbag next to it that Erica happily settled in, as if she had done so a million times before.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve got all the sa-same classes as Erica to, um, help set- help me settle in…,”

“Well I’m sure as Hell not goin’ to school tomorrow,” Kenny said, once more resting her head in Butters’ lap.  
“And why’s that?” replied Kylie with a slight eye roll.

“I need to spend tomorrow movin’ out all of Aaron’s stuff, ‘cause I mean all my shit’s in my new apartment already, but I need to get my little brother’s stuff too otherwise, well, ya know.”  
“Aren’t teachers go-gonna notice?” Tweek asked, peering at the was Butter’s had started playing with Kenny’s hair curiously. Stacey answered her question for her.  
“Kenny always skips class to get high in the bathroom with Claire Tucker-“

“Correction: I get high,” Kenny interrupted, “While Claire steals all my cigarettes and complains about her shitty homelife. Though I complain ‘bout my shitty homelife too, so it’s a two-way thing…”  
“Holy shit, Claire Tucker!” Erica exclaimed, causing everyone in the room to look over at her.

“Yeah?” Butters asked.

“Don’t you guys remember how she and Tweek had that epic fight in fourth grade?”

“Oh yeah!” Kylie replied, her eyes lighting up as she started to nudge Stacey excitedly.

“D’you remember Tweek? You were like the only kid that actually matched Tucker. You beat the shit out of her, dude!”

“But didn’t they both end up in hospital?” Challenged Stacey, a skeptical and slightly scared look in her eyes.

“But still, they were equals”

“Yeah, but-“

“I thi- I think the only reason that, we-well, that happened wa-was because of th- the me- the coffee,” Tweek spoke up, her knees curled up to her chest and her eyes glued to the floor. A silence fell over the room as everyone started to truly realize that the Tweek they knew now, was no longer the same girl that they used to go to school with.

“Still,” Kenny said slowly, trying her best to smile encouragingly at Tweek, “It’s gonna be something to see what Tucker thinks of you now.”


	3. Letters

Claire Tucker was never a people person. It wasn’t as if she exactly hated humanity, as one may think, it was more that she didn’t want a part in it. Claire didn’t grow up in a kind and loving household, in her family everyone fended for themselves, and never acknowledged each other. When they were kids, her and her little brother Tristan wanted nothing to do with each other, each sibling holding a grudge against and staying far away from the other. As Claire started to grow older, into her adolescent years, she felt herself grow further and further apart from the rest of her family. Because at that feeble age a child needs support, a role model, and her parents had neither of those things for her. One night when she was fourteen years old, feeling as if she was trapped, having nothing to lose and nothing to gain in an endless cycle, something inside her finally snapped. She marched into the living room, where her father was snoring on the sofa, and punched him square in the jaw. Ever since then, she saw every person she met as a threat, because deep down, she was terrified of people. 

It was around 5:30 on a Sunday morning, though Claire was far from asleep. Instead she was strolling down South Park’s eerily empty streets, enjoying the quiet of the early morning. It was a half moon that night, though it was still nice to look at, and as the sky started to lighten with the small promise of the sun Claire watched as it’s light began to fade. She was alone, not a person around her to be seen, which was understandable given the crime rate of South Park. Claire wasn’t scared, though, she never felt safe anywhere, so she always carried a pocket knife and her sharpest wits about her. Which is why she was quick to attention when she heard the sound of police sirens behind her in the distance, gradually getting louder. She felt her chest start to tighten as she ran over in her head why the police would be after her, in a panicked state not considering that she’d broken no law. Looking around to actually recognize her surroundings, she noticed that she was right outside of the old abandoned coffee shop. Taking no time to plan or think, she took to her feet to run down the alley to the side of the building. She knew that most small shops like that would usually have side doors down the alley, and luckily she was right.

Claire pressed her back against the opposite wall, then firmly placed her left foot on the cinderblock next to the door. With as much strength as she could muster, she threw a mighty kick on the space near the handle as hard as she could. With a splintering crack, the old door swung open, and Claire gratefully jumped inside. She flopped onto her back with a loud sigh and placed a hand on her chest to feel the quickened pace of her heart rushing with adrenaline. As she tried to get her breath back, she took a moment to realize what she had just done. She had actually broken down the door of an abandoned building just because she heard faint police sirens that weren’t even after her. She didn’t know whether to laugh at or slap herself. Eventually she rose up from the ground, taking in the everything that was around her. The place was completely empty, the only things in the room random pieces of plastic and dust and cobwebs scattered around the place. Creepy. Claire noticed that there was a door with an old sign that read “STAFF ONLY”, and briefly wondered if there was still traces of meth in there.

She reached out a hand to try the doorknob, to find it locked. Claire thought about how just before she had kicked down probably-locked door, but that was based on pure adrenaline alone. Having nothing better to do, she felt around in her jacket pocket to pull out a spare bobby pin that had never been used for hair. The tip of one end had already been bent down, having used this particular pin to pick locks many times before, mainly to pick the padlock on the front door to leave her house at night. She fiddled around for a moment to find the right places to press down, before hearing the small metallic click to indicate that she had succeeded. She pushed on the handle once more, the door now swinging open much to Claire’s silent delight.

Walking inside, she felt chills run up her spine in the change of temperature. It was warmer in the back room, and somewhat humid. There were a few discarded and empty sacks strewn over the concrete floor, each with a faded coffee bean sign on them. The walls were dirty with age, and there were some places where no dust settled where cupboards and shelves must have once been. The room was practically empty, except for one thing that captured Claire’s attention. A doormat. In the far-right corner of the empty room was a doormat, lying on the floor. Cautiously, Claire made her way up to it, still trying her best to remain silent though she was certain she was alone. Claire crouched down to read the partly scratched off letters in bold spelling “WELCOME”. Claire thought for a moment. Why was this here? It was weird enough that it was inside the building, but even stranger that it seemed so neatly placed, so intentional… Then something clicked. It was hiding something, like most doormats did. She lifted it up to see nothing but more floorboard, but Claire knew better. 

Anticipation starting to rise in her throat, Claire felt around the floorboards for any suspicious gap. Her nails that her brother had painted black scraped along the lines experimentally, until they lodged into a crack she hadn’t noticed before. Claire traced her teeth over her bottom lip before finding one of her piercings and tugging at it gently, as she lodged her nails under the board to gently lift it up. She had no idea what she was looking for, or what she would find. The family that used to own this place was crazy, and they used to always lock their daughter in this very room. Tweek was her name, as in the street name for meth. What kind of sick thoughts were going through her parent’s minds when they named her that? Let alone give it to her without her knowing the true meaning. Claire used to go to school with Tweek, she remembered that girl clearly. There was something about her that fascinated Claire, maybe it was her tiny stature that was always so frail, so vulnerable, like she would break any moment. Maybe it was her crystal blue eyes that seemed so much older than the girl actually was. Maybe it was the fact that in fourth grade, she had beaten Claire almost to a pulp. At first Claire wanted to protect her, but since then, she had strong respect for her. That small girl truly was capable of more than Claire thought, and it intrigued her to the point of wanting to be her closest friend. Then she disappeared before she could do anything about it.

Underneath the floorboard that she had removed there was a small hole that had been dug in the ground underneath and nestled comfortably in it was a teal-colored shoebox. Curiosity growing by the second, Claire pulled out the shoebox and rested it on her lap, where she sat cross-legged on the floor. Carefully, not wanting to wreck anything possibly valuable, she lifted the lid off of the box and peered inside. It was paper, no, it was letters. Lots of individual letters piled up on top of each other, each with tiny and cramped handwriting and most stained with small drops of water. Tears possibly. When she tried to pry the top sheet from the pile, she found that they were all stuck together slightly by a sort of sticky substance, so she had to delicate run her fingers through the top gap to pry it off by tearing. Shuffling so that she was leaning against the wall, she began to read.

Dear Tweek  
Today was my first day of shop class the machines wanted to get me they kept showing me mean looks and threatening to sell me o slavery and chop me up with their big big blades HELP ME then these girls I cant remember their names said that the scary girl with the blue hat chose me I didn’t know what it meant but they said I piss her off and she was going to fight me I asked my parents for help though they want to kill me they keep saying they’ll sell me I don’t wanna be a slave im so scared so scared all the time Dad said told me a story and it was pointless I told him I HATE IT I WANT OUT I WANT OUT while banging my head against the table they gave me more coffee when I went to bed I slammed my head against the wall until it bled the blood I hate the blood like I hate the coffee  
Love Tweek

Claire almost felt like throwing up. She had just looked through a window that wasn’t meant for her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel sick at what she had just read, and the fact that it was all true. Shifting through the papers, she found that each one was recounted by Tweek, in messy and unpunctuated scrawl. She agued with herself silently for a moment about whether she should continue, before feeling a small vibration in her back-jean pocket. Pulling out her phone, she found four miscalls from her father and a message from Tristan. Tapping the message before entering her passcode “Stipe” she quickly read it.

Tristan: Dads rlly mad u should come home

Tristan: pls Claire

Sighing long and hard though no one could hear her, she picked up all of the pieces of paper in a pile, and not so carefully shoved them in her jacket pocket. She would read the rest at home, but now she had to deal with her family.


	4. Bus Stop

“How much charge is your phone on, Tweek?”

Tweek looked up from the Red Racer repeat to engage in Erica’s words. Uncertain, she pat around her jumper pocket to pull out her humble and cracked iPhone 6. Erica was fumbling around in the kitchen, which was right next to the lounge, packing lunch for both her and Tweek.

“29 percent. Why?”

Erica jogged into the loungeroom to collapse on the floor in front of Tweek and started to unzip their backpacks to pack all of their essential equipment.

“Well, if case we get separated, you need to call me. So, don’t use your phone for anything other than texting me today, k? To keep its energy and stuff.”

Tweek nodded , slightly dazed, before looking back up at the screen to immerse herself once more in the old children’s television program. Once Erica had finished organizing everything, she shuffled up onto the couch to join Tweek, silently judging her messy mane of curls. Looking around, she found her mom’s hairbrush resting on a couch cushion and grabbed it, before looking at Tweek pointedly.

“What is it?” Tweek said, not looking up from the screen. Erica flinched slightly at the sudden address.

“Can I brush your hair?”

Tweek looked skeptically down at the hairbrush her sister was holding. It seemed harmless enough, but what if it had lice in it that wanted to suck her blood? Or what if the prongs dug into her skin and ripped her scalp off? What if… deep breaths. She was spiraling again, and she knew Erica could tell. Tweek looked down at her hands in shame, attempting to use her hair as a curtain to hide her face.

“Come on, Tweek, It’ll be fine. Please?” Erica dragged out the please and hunched her shoulders, tilting her head slightly to appear vulnerable in her sucking up to Tweek. Tweek huffed from slightly flared nostrils as she glared purposefully at the blue carpet floor. Then between teeth gritted with frustration of worry she muttered,

“Fine.”

Squealing in repressed glee, Erica shuffled on her knees closer to Tweek. And started to part knotted golden strands with delicate fingers. Tweek had gone back to watching the television, which still being on a children’s channel, started to play Terrance and Philip. Though Tweek didn’t laugh at the jokes, she still seemed interested, smiling about one of the few fond memories of her childhood. After getting all of the major tangles out of the way, Erica started to separate Tweek’s hair into four neat sections, in order to focus on one at a time. Something that she had the habit of doing with her own hair. She held the first section lightly with her left-hand and began to brush gently with her right hand in rhythmic motions. Tweek relaxed her tense shoulders as she realized that there was nothing to be scared of and stopped clenching her now sweaty palms. Liane walked in the room at this moment and smiled at the sight of her two daughters having their bonding time.

“Why, aren’t you two cute.”

Tweek glanced at Liane, smiling bashfully, as Erica rolled her eyes, “Do you girls have everything you need for school? Can I do anything to help?” 

Erica scoffed slightly as she started to more vigorously brush Tweek’s hair.

“No, Mom. I already did everything.”

Liane’s face and stature seemed to wilt slightly, as she looked at the ground.

“Oh. Um, alright then. Just-just let me know if you need anything, ok?”

Tweek nodded in clarification, though Erica just ignored her, acting as if Tweek’s hair was the only thing in the universe in that moment, and making it neat was her primary objective. 

__________

Wendel had decided to take the bus that day. To say that it annoyed Kylie would be sort of an understatement, because she was downright pissed off. It wasn’t as if she didn’t like Wendel, it wasn’t his fault that she was jealous of him. It was just that it used to be her, and Stacey. Sure, Erica and Kenny had been there all the while too, but her and Stacey had always been a duo. What was so amazing about Wendel that made Stacey so obsessed with him? The fact that he was smart? Kylie was just as intelligent as Wendel, if not more! Or the fact that he was a socialist? Kylie was the biggest damn socialist she knew! Kylie never saw Wendel stand up for other people or call Erica out for being the racist fuck that she could be. She never saw Wendel be there for Stacey during her parent’s divorce or support her during her depression. But it was Wendel that was with Stacey, not her. And that was just the way it was.

Kylie’s discomfort was evident that Monday morning, at least to Kenny and Marjorine, not necessarily the sources themselves. Marjorine shot Kylie a sympathetic look, while Kenny just smirked at her arrogantly. Kylie rolled her eyes and redirected her attention to the notepad that she was writing in. The Human Kite, the comic book for her by her that let her escape into an imaginary world, where she could fly, shoot lasers, and her straight best friend actually liked her back. No one had ever read her book, no one except for Erica. She didn’t even want Erica to find it, but she did. When they were working on a school project about ecosystems, Erica had looked through Kylie’s room when she was in the bathroom. Erica’s reaction certainly wasn’t what she had expected, she didn’t tease Kylie or taunt her, but just stared at her emptily, and went home without a word. Neither of them had mentioned it since.

“Hey losers!” Erica shouted from slightly further down the sidewalk, with Tweek trailing closely behind her. Erica was walking with an air of confidence, as if to make up for what Tweek so obviously lacked. Tweek was wearing one of Erica’s old hoodies, it was olive green and slightly too big for her, making her appear even tinier than she actually was. She also wore a brown skirt that reached to her knees, with black stockings underneath, it was odd and stood out, but it made Tweek comfortable not wearing jeans, which she was always scared of trapping her. Both Tweek and Erica were wearing matching yellow gloves, with which Tweek kept with her arms wrapped around her stomach, and with which Erica swung her arms confidently.

“Hey guys,” Stacey smiled, turning away from Wendel for the first time that morning. Marjorine waved, Kenny nodded, and Kylie forced a smile at the two approaching girls. Wendel turned and looked at Tweek in confusion, not recognizing the new face. Noticing that Wendel was there, Erica scowled.

“What’s this hippy doing here?”

Wendel pursed his lips and frowned at Erica, trying to keep his cool. Stacey scowled at Erica and Kylie hardly tried to suppress her laughter.

“Stick it to the man, Cartman.”

Stacey looked at Kylie, surprised and slightly hurt before shaking it off and taking Wendel by the arm towards Tweek.

“Do you remember Tweek? She’s Cartman’s sister now.”

Wendel looked confused for second before his eyes lit up with recognition. He smiled as friendly as he could at Tweek.

“Oh my gosh! Hey, Tweek! I hardly recognized you, you look great!” 

Tweek could over hear Kenny mutter “He’s so gay” under her breath, but it seemed that Tweek was the only one who heard. Stacey was looking at Wendel a little off-put, because of his sudden enthusiasm at Tweek’s presence. Tweek cleared her throat in uncertainty.

“Uh, yeah. I didn’t really recognize you either without the…” Tweek thought for a moment. What was that hat that Wendel wore everywhere? What color was it? “pink hat.”

Wendel’s cheeks darkened slightly as he let out a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, times change, I guess. Oh, do you know who’d really want to see you? Bobby! Do you remember Bobby, Tweek? Stevens? He’s been the quarter back since, like, forever. You remember him, right?”   
Tweek nodded, starting to smile. Wendel was being so friendly that she couldn’t help but relax slightly in his presence, as if she was reconnecting with an old friend. She felt Erica tense next to her, leaning away from Wendel as if he was a contagious disease.

“He’d be so happy to see you! Actually, I reckon everyone will be happy to see you! I’m the student council president so I’ll try to make you as comfortable as possible. If you want, of course. Oh! Do you think that you’d be interested in volunteering with some of the fundraisers we have lined up? No pressure, or anything, it’s up to you, by the way, it’s probably best that you stay away from Andy. He’s kind of- um, ‘flirtatious’ and I don’t want you to get uncomfortable. Oh, yeah! Do you remember how Mr. Garrison…”

It continued like this until the bus arrived. With Tweek smiling and nodding along as Wendel rambled about everything that popped into his mind, with Erica standing close to Tweek protectively and eyeing of the black-haired boy, with Stacey standing slightly awkwardly next to Wendell, occasionally joining the conversation, with Kylie moodily writing in her notebook, and with Kenny and Marjorine in their own world, talking about Chinese food. Once the bus arrived, Wendel smiled at Tweek and said,

“Nice catching up with you, Tweek!” Then wrapped an arm around Stacey as they entered the bus together. Kylie frowned as she watched the two board. She’d be sitting alone now, as predicted. Kenny shouted behind her shoulder, 

“See you in Hell!” and dragged Marjorine to the very backseats of the bus, inaudibly reserved for them. Tweek noticed that Erica was staring at Kylie sadly. It was no secret to Tweek that Erica had been crushing on Kylie since second grade, and so she went over the options in her mind. Either sit next to a stranger so that Erica could sit with Kylie or sit with Erica and let Kylie sit next to someone else. She took a deep breath as she made her decision and tapped Erica on the shoulder. 

“I’m gonna get on. You sit with Kylie.”

Erica opened her mouth to say something but before she could, Tweek hopped on through the bus’s doors. Walking down the alley between seats, she found that the bus was moderately full, and she was going to have to sit next to someone. As she was tossing up in her mind who would possibly try to talk to her and who would kindly leave her alone, a friendly voice spoke up.

“Hey there! You wan- wanna sit here?”

Tweek looked to her left where the source of the voice was coming from. Sitting on a seat with no one next to her, sat a smiling brunette girl with crutches lying at her feet. The girl’s pale face was dotted with freckles, and she wore a bright hoodie and a black t-shirt, with what looked like a pickle with a face on it. Tweek smiled gratefully at the kindness of the girl and made her way over to sit on the aisle seat next to her. Tweek knew who it was from the voice and the crutches. It was Kenny Valmer, one of the physically disabled kids that she used to go to school with. Jenny was sometimes made fun of too.

She knew how it felt to be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyman or Style endgame?


	5. First Class

Claire sat idly as she watched the smoke pour from her lungs through her lips to trail into the air. She couldn’t remember exactly when she had started smoking, but she could pin it to be around the time when she started getting into constant fights with her dad, aka, the reason she was covered in fresh bruises every new day. Apart from Tristan, who she would gladly beat up anyone for, her three friends would have had to be the closest family to her. Those three friends surrounded her now, talking everything about nothing in the unused girls bathroom on a Monday morning. Claude’s voice cut her thoughts of nothing abruptly.

“Holy shit, I forgot. Did you guys know there’s a new girl? I mean, I heard it from Kelsi and she doesn’t really like me ‘cause of that time I tried to fuck her when I was fucking wasted, but if she wasn’t lying I totally need to get her on the team! I mean, those big-tit North Park bitches are not upstaging us this season. I heard she’s blonde which would be such a breath of fresh air-“

“Are you talk- talking about Tweek? I sat with her on the bu- on the bus this morning!”

If Claire had been drinking water at that moment, she would have spat it out. Instead she started to choke on her on saliva and went into a coughing fit right in front of Token, Claude and Jenny. Feeling the heat rush to her cheeks, she tried to stifle her coughing by keeping her hands by her sides and her mouth tightly shut. Even then it was easy to see that she was struggling, her chest moving up and down violently.

“You alright Claire?” Token asked as she began to unscrew the cap from her water bottle. Claire kept her eyes training on the ground in embarrassment but took the water gratefully anyway. As Token and Jenny’s faces showed concern and sympathy, Claudette’s started to merge into a sly grin. She sidled up next to the taller girl, who had been sitting against the bathroom counter, and leaned into her teasingly.

“Aww… does wittle Cwaire have a cwush on the new gowl?”

Token rolled her eyes.

“I think Claire’s more just surprised that Tweek‘s back in South Park. Right, Claire?”

Claire nodded immediately, eager to shake off any other feelings that had emerged in her stomach. Tweek Tweak was actually back in south park? Going to the same high school as her? Beside Claire, Claudette screwed up her eyes.

“‘Back’ in South Park? What, was she here before?”

“Oh my god, Claude. She was the coffee scandal kid!”

At the word ‘scandal’ Claudette quickly snapped to attention, her faint memory standing upright, and her gossip detector dialed up fully.

“Holy shit! The meth head girl?!” Claudette then put on a high-pitched and strained voice, as if to imitate Tweek. “They’re gonna get me man, oh god! Gah I’m addicted to meth! Gah Ack Gah!”

Something inside Claire twisted with muffled anger. To hear Claudette’s undermining, her mocking, made her both angry and guilty. Guilty that when she thought of Tweek, a part of her found it funny too. A part of her wanted to kick her to the curb and beat the shit out of her for being a crazy freak. But the main part of her, the bigger part, the stronger part, felt empathy for the girl. After reading what she knew she shouldn’t have, after staying up all night to put herself into the shoes of a girl she didn’t know, she felt guilty, and angry. Though mostly angry. And it was that anger that drove her to almost punch Claudette in the jaw, if it weren’t for her ow stammering self-control, and Jenny’s input.

“That’s not coo- that’s not c- cool Claude. Tweek coul- couldn’t help those ti- ticks. But she does- doesn’t do them anymore ac- actually. She’s pretty cool, I li-, I li- like her.”

Token nodded along as Jenny talked, all the while staring at Claudette disapprovingly. Claudette rose her hands in mock surrender.

“I was just kidding! Claire, you thought it was funny, right?”

Instead of answering, Claire simply ignored her, pulling out her phone at an angle where only she could see. Claudette didn’t seem to mind, opting to continue mindlessly chatting about cheerleading with Token and Jenny, which turned into a conversation that Claire very much was not interested in. Entering Instagram, she typed the name “Tweek Tweak”, to no avail. Sighing softly, she racked her brain to think of who used to hang around Tweek. But Tweek was always sitting alone at lunch, she remembered that. In elementary school Claire would watch her routine of siting at an empty table, draining a furnace of coffee, and walking to the classroom to wait for lunch to end. She could maybe check out Erica Cartman’s page to see if she’d posted anything about the not-new girl, because if there was anything gossip worthy Erica was over it like an ant to honey. Claire never used Instagram except for finding people and seeing what their deal is. She only had two pictures posted to her account, one of Tristan wearing rainbow sunglasses, and one of a drunk Claudette taking a bath with her clothes on. Both had no captions.

Searching ‘Erica Cartman’ brought up multiple results, but there was one profile picture of an overweight girl holding a grey cat up to her face with a blank expression, and she knew that this one was her’s. Her bio read ‘I run a hippie extermination service’ which almost made Claire chuckle. Almost. Erica’s most recent photo definitely caught Claire’s attention. It was a selfie, closest to the camera sat Erica who was sticking her tongue out and screwing her eyes in a disgusted manner. Next to her in the picture was a short girl who was looking at the camera with a small smile and nervous eyes. She had curly blonde hair that was resting neatly on her shoulders, and a large green hoodie made her look small and frail. Though she lacked the coffee in hand, thin skin and baggy eyes, this was definitely Tweek, the girl who’s childhood diary Claire had read inside out.

The caption under th photo read “Tweek’s rediscovering the horrors of the caf. Lucky I packed lunch for her lol.”

Packed lunch for her? Why would Cartman do that for someone, and how did she even know that Tweek was coming back to school that day? 

“Watcha lookin’ at?”

On reflex, the action of Claudette leaning over to look at her phone screen made Claire press the off button as fast as lightning. Token rolled her eyes with a grin as Jenny burst out laughing, all the while Claudette huffed in frustration. 

“I’m your best friend, Claire! How come I can’t see you’re private stuff.”

“’cause it’s ‘private’, idiot.”

Claudette pouted her lip in either mock sadness or genuine hurt, it was hard to tell.

“Hey Claire, where’s Kenny? Isn’t she usually here?”

“She’s sick,” Claire casually led as she re-opened her phone and went through Cartman’s page, more and more pictures of Tweek appearing before her. It seemed as if Erica had quickly befriended Tweek, though Claire wasn’t surprised. It was quite typical of Erica to jump on to the new kids quickly, to recruit them on her side of the school’s social spectrum. It wasn’t as if Claire minded that Erica and Tweek were so close so quickly, Claire just felt sorry for the girl, being scooped up by the most dramatic girl in school so suddenly. She was pretty sure Claudette was saying something to her, but Claire was too distracted by the pictures of Tweek, all of which she looked so uncertain, so distant. It was as if she was a ghost of the girl that Claire used to know.

“Claire!”

“Huh? What?”

“Well now you pay attention, I was asking what’re you gonna do during class time if you don’t have your smoking buddy?”

“Go to class I guess. I mean, I want to graduate so might as well start showing up on non-exam days.”

Claudette and Token made no effort to hide their shock, and even Jenny was eyeing her down skeptically. As Jenny opened her mouth to say something, the first bell of the day rang, and the four girls filed out of the bathroom to join the sea of students pushing to get to their respective classes. Claire blinked as Jenny grabbed her arm to pull her aside, to bring her against the wall and talk to her directly. Token and Claudette had already disappeared in the crowd, not bothering to say goodbye before walking off to their classes.

“You have e- have eng- English with me Claire.”

Claire nodded as gratefully as she could and followed Jenny through the busy hallway. Students parted like the red sea when Jenny walked by, out of fear and respect of the handicapped girl, so it helped Claire immensely to follow close behind her, catching the eye of many students confused as to why she was actually attending class for once. Claire made it her duty to glare at anyone that stared for too long, almost feeling self-conscience under the eyes of hundreds. Claire started to walk past her friend as Jenny herself halted in front of a classroom door, making Claire back up quickly and follow Jenny through the door. The tables were mostly full, and the teacher wasn’t there yet. Claire scanned the room for a mop of curly blonde hair, to stop in her tracks at the sight of Tweek Tweak, alive and well, sitting delicately in the back row, with Erica Cartman close next to her.

/Im so alone so alone I don’t notice if some ones next to me anymore/

Though she only paused for a moment to stare at Tweek, Jenny immediately noticed and stifled a fascinated laugh. Claire was never like this around anyone, so Jenny was definitely going to seize this opportunity.

“Hey T- Tweek!” Jenny yelled and began to make her way over to claim the seat to Tweek’s right, much to the distaste of Cartman, who was looming protectively to Tweek’s left, in the back corner of the classroom. Tweek jumped slightly at the sudden address of her name, but relaxed when she saw that it was Jenny wearing a welcoming smile as she shuffled into the seat next to her.

/everythings scary everythings so so scary/

“Hi, Jenny.”

Claire could barely move as she stared at Jenny, who was now chatting friendlily with Tweek, Erica occasionally joining in but still watching the conversation carefully, as if at any moment Jenny would pull out a knife and attack the small blonde. As Claire watched the encounter, not knowing what to do with herself, Jenny caught her eye and waved her over enthusiastically. Claire rolled her eyes and shuffled over to sit next to Jenny, trying to look as bored and monotone as possible. But apparently her existing was enough to cause a fuss.

“Holy shit, Tucker! What made you decide to crawl out of your den?” Claire forced herself to look up at Erica, who was leaning over her desk with a devious smirk, and tried to ignore Tweek, who was gaping at her with wide eyes.

“Well, Fatass, I supposed I missed your wailing so gosh darned much that I just had to pay you a visit.”

Erica snickered, ignoring the insult, before turning around to Tweek, who was still staring at Claire, to talk about who knows what. 

Tweek blinked in a feeble attempt to shake herself out of her dazed state, to snap back around to face Erica, who was giving her a look she couldn’t decode. Her eyes were wide, and yet brows furrowed, and her plump lips were pursed together.

“What?” Tweek asked, feeling her cheeks heat up. She hadn’t meant to stare at Claire Tucker for so long, honestly. She just couldn’t bring herself to look away. She just looked so different, and yet so similar. Her hair was different, when they were kids she used to have it cut to her shoulders, now it was resting on her left in a long black braid that came down to the taller girls waist. She was wearing the same hat that she always wore as a kid, the dark blue chullo with the yellow bobble on top. It fit her more nicely now, though. It used to cover most of her forehead when she was younger. Her eyes were the same, piercing green with long lashes that seemed to glare deep into your soul, reading your mind and leaving you vulnerable. Often it was Claire’s eyes that haunted Tweek at night, when she was younger she used to think that Claire was a demon that wanted to eat her. Claire had piercings now, two black hoops on her lower lip that made her seem even more intimidating than Tweek already found her. She was wearing black boots and aa black jacket, her usual bluecoat gone, and Tweek just couldn’t seem to look away.

Even now as Erica was talking to her, Tweek kept finding herself wanting to glance over at where Claire was sitting two seats away, and the one time she mustered up the courage to do so, about halfway through the lesson, she found Claire staring right back at her. Tweek flinched away to force her head back to her work, her heating face making her even more embarrassed. She didn’t dare look up at Claire again for the rest of the lesson, and when the bell for next period finally rang Claire was the first one out of there, flipping off the back of the teacher as she speed-walked out of the classroom. Letting out a relieved sigh, Tweek began to pack up her things when she saw Erica in the corner of her eyes gazing concernedly at her.

“What’s wrong?” Tweek asked quietly, giving a reassuring small smile to try and cheer her sister up. Erica looked her up and down curiously for a moment before standing up and pushing in her chair, dragging Tweek up with her by the elbow gently.

“I was gonna say the same to you. Are you doing ok?”

Tweek nodded, confused as she followed Erica out of the classroom, most of the students having left already. 

“You just seemed uncomfortable. Anything givin’ you shit?”

Tweek racked her immediate memory for any believable straws that she could quickly grasp at. How could she answer a question she didn’t know the answer to? She supposed she was shaken up, seeing the fists that once turned her to pulp, but also the skin that she had once made bleed. 

“Um, se- seeing Claire I guess was weird.”

Erica’s breath hitched as she fought to hide her growing concern. She wasn’t stupid, never had been and never will be, so she definitely noticed the intense staring at Tweek from Claire, and it didn’t settle well at all. The last memory she had of Tweek and Claire involved Tweek ending up in hospital with her ribs smashed in, so the fact that Claire was watching her sister so closely made Erica hyper-aware, feeling the need to keep Tweek as far away from the walking timebomb as possible.


End file.
